


3:15 am

by Kamula7



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Bill was reborn as Stan Theory, Gen, but it's implied heavily, cause it's stan, i'm not sure this is really teen instead of gen but just in case, it's not outright stated, one (1) curse word, there's also a torture mention but it's vague and only in one sentence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25052647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamula7/pseuds/Kamula7
Summary: The hidden parking lot was mostly silent; distant police sirens carried through the wind.  The chain metal fence rattled quietly; weeds in the cracks on the pavement waved.  The yellow building side lights flickered, their hum filling the otherwise void air.Stan rubbed his hands together and exhaled, breath visible...The odd, cold fog and dark, cloudy sky, along with the city silence, reminded Stan of a dream like setting, or an escape from reality.  A dreamscape, he thought, and chuckled to himself.  What a funny word...------Stan has a dream.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	3:15 am

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this ages ago, and I finally finished it and decided to publish it. So I guess it'll be my first fic published to ao3.  
> (If I'm missing something from the tags, just let me know)  
> Of course, I don't own any of the characters, or Gravity Falls. So I'm not making any cash from this.  
> Enjoy!

Stan bolted up.  _ Bang! _ Muffled cursing was all that was heard as he got out of the car, rubbing his head.

The hidden parking lot was mostly silent; distant police sirens carried through the wind. The chain metal fence rattled quietly; weeds in the cracks on the pavement waved. The yellow building side lights flickered, their hum filling the otherwise void air.

Stan rubbed his hands together and exhaled, breath visible. He pulled his ratty, red coat tighter around him. The fur on the hood was thin and scratchy, but an annoying hood was better than no hood. He looked around the area. He did not even know where he was, only that he was so tired when he pulled in he was surprised he had not crashed his car.

The buildings surrounding the little chained parking lot were dark and ugly, but they shielded the lot from plain sight. Someone would have to search for the lot to find it. Graffiti littered the walls of the buildings, mostly gang symbols and names.

That's too bad, Stan thought as he pulled out a cigarette and lighter. Some graffiti art is actually good. The next Picasso or some shit like that. He huffed, then took a drag of his cigarette. People out here don't get to be the next Picasso. They don't get to be anyone. He exhaled.

The odd, cold fog and dark, cloudy sky, along with the city silence, reminded Stan of a dream like setting, or an escape from reality. A dreamscape, he thought, and chuckled to himself. What a funny word.

Speaking of dreams...

The false, half grin on his face faded away as he thought about the reason he woke up.

Loud voices filled his mind, forgotten secrets they whispered to each other in between the waves mingling in with yelling and accusations, a brother that fell in a bright light screaming for his help (and yet he was watching the guillable fool that fell into his relam, ready to torture and taunt him), standing there uselessly, or had he stood back on purpose, wanting to abandon his brother the way he abandoned him (wanting to punish him for stopping him)…

Half of the nonsense from his dream didn’t even make sense.

And yet, his mind whispered uneasily, all of it felt familiar. The feeling of a hat (a tophat? A fez?) on his head brushed at him from the corners of his mind, though he had never worn either of those in his life.

He shook his head as though to dislodge his thoughts. Dreams were made up nonsense and they didn’t matter. And he had worn other hats before. He was just tired and hungry, and stressed from keeping a watch out for cops. Speaking of... 

The police sirens were getting louder. And closer. Maybe they knew about the existence of the lot. Stan glanced down at the watch he nicked from some pug dealer named Rick (he had some nervous kid with him named Martin or something.)

3:15 am.

Stan was probably not going to get anymore sleep that night, and the cops sounded like they were only a few blocks away. God knows what they were after, but he did not want to stick around to find out.

Stan flicked away the cigarette and got back into the car. He started the engine, and after a slight hesitation ( _ Stanley, driving without your seatbelt is dangerous _ ), put on his seatbelt.   
It was only to make himself seem a bit more like a lawful citizen in case the police drove past him, he tried to convince himself. He was aiming to avoid them, but-   
( _ Better to be safe than sorry! _ )

He shook his head. Get it together, Stan. 

He drove out of the parking lot with a crunch of gravel, and started driving away from the town. The parking lot was left as empty as it was before, with no trace of anything except for a slightly smoking cigarette butt and the flicker of yellow lights.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!


End file.
